


Bitty Blues

by Franstastic_Ideas



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Farmtale, Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), F/M, Gaster Papyrus (Undertale), Gaster Sans (Undertale), Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 05:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20286397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franstastic_Ideas/pseuds/Franstastic_Ideas
Summary: Fresh out of college, Chara drags Frisk to an adoption center in hopes that her lonely friend will take to one of the bitties there, but only after Chara promises to buy Frisk lunch for her troubles. After looking through the center for a while, they encounter a Blueberry, a rescue with abandonment issues that develops a near instant attraction to Frisk. His HP is unusually and dreadfully low for a Blueberry, so much so that the staff worry that one more heartbreak may reduce him to dust.





	Bitty Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story does feature a rescue bitty, so there are some narrative elements that may be upsetting to readers. Another rescue bitty has a malnourished and mangled appearance and is described as such.

It seemed like everyone around her had become enraptured with bitties. No matter where she looked, she would see happy people with happy little monsters riding on someone’s shoulders, resting in the pockets of shirts, or peeking curiously out of an open bag. They were everywhere.

And if Frisk were to be honest, _she didn’t get it_.

Frisk didn’t resent the little creatures, not at all. But she didn’t understand the appeal, either. Squealing over the tiny clothes they wore, watching them nibble on the bite-sized food they ate, the social media accounts one would come across at each corner of the internet filled to the brim with snapshots capturing the bitty’s every action… it was all lost on her. And the disappointed or sympathetic looks she more than often received when she _didn’t_ begin cooing whenever one was shoved in her face was something Frisk couldn’t totally wrap her head around either.

Frisk didn’t hate bitties. She didn’t even remotely dislike them.

She just didn’t want one.

A loner is what most called her. She was always alone, nose shoved in a book or looking at a screen instead of talking to the people around her. Soft-spoken and only speaks when spoken to, that was Frisk. These traits made people believe she was either shy or had an attitude that needed fixing, but the truth was, interacting with others was just too much for her to deal with.

Frisk _liked_ being alone. Why was that so difficult to comprehend?

She doesn’t ever wonder what having lots of friends is like… not at all. She pitied these lonely humans with their bitties, if she felt anything towards them at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk had just finished up her final class of her last semester of college; she was free from the institution of education and walking out of the building with a bachelor’s. From this point onward, she could no longer be called a ‘college kid’ and was officially considered a responsible adult ready to join the workforce – _fun_.

Interrupting this thought was the abrupt and blurred image of a shoulder bag whizzing past her vision, knocking the book she was reading out of her hands as the heavy bag fell into her lap, and a wild red-headed girl wearing a green striped sweater scrambling for the spot next to her on the bench she was sitting on.

_Chara_.

“Frisk, what is UP my depressed homeslice?!” She hollered, throwing an arm around Frisk’s waist and yanking her to her side.

Though Frisk found it difficult to believe herself at times, this woman was one of the few constants in her life. She was three years younger, but she was taller and stronger than her. Frisk has known her for a long time now, since childhood even. Could she call her a friend? Perhaps. She considered herself Frisk’s friend, and she wasn’t shy about telling anyone either. Depending on the day and her current moodset, sometimes this sentiment was shared.

Truthfully, she was more like a sister to Frisk. A sister she never really asked for, but appreciated nonetheless. And that was what she called Frisk – her sister. Whenever Chara introduced her to some decidedly uninterested third party, she always referred to her as her friend and then sister, switching from one to the other, before ultimately settling for the tacked on term 'sister-friend’.

“Waiting for the bus.” Frisk replied blandly, already far too accustomed to her odd greetings by now. She shuffled uncomfortably, gesturing to the bag that was now in her lap. “Chara, what is _in this_? It has to weigh twenty pounds, minimum.”

“Oh, _that_. Yeah.” She nodded sagely, lifting it from her lap as if it were full of feathers instead of whatever was actually in there. “It’s my bitty bag. I went shopping for more supplies earlier, so it’s a little heavier than it usually is.”

“And knowing this, you decided to dump it on me?” She inquired, already knowing the answer as she bent over to retrieve her fallen book.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Chara grinned, not the least bit sorry for knocking the wind out of her with it.

Frisk then took a glance at her shoulder; it was missing a certain pocket-sized skeleton monster that was always perched there. That bitty was almost all she ever talked about these days, ever since she adopted him last September on her birthday. Taking the bothersome bitty home was how she chose to celebrate her day of birth, the best present she ever received from herself is what she called him.

She had become a bitty enthusiast practically since the moment she first learned of their existence, spending most of her spare time volunteering at the local center that housed the creatures, and became even more immersed after the official announcement came that the miniature monsters were to become adoptable to anyone who could provide them a loving home, and Chara had a lot of love to give.

So it really astonished Frisk when she stepped out of the center in possession of a bitty who couldn’t have been more contrasting to her personality. Frisk was unabashedly uneducated when it came to matters concerning bitties, but she was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had selected the meanest, most ornery one in existence with one of the illest tempers she had ever seen out of anyone; man or monster. He was loud, commandeering, and had a jealousy streak that stretched a mile wide.

Noticing her lingering gaze, Chara then supplied the other girl with an answer to her unspoken question. “You’re wondering where Bossanova is? He’s in trouble. He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so he’s earned himself a nice long time out at home so he can think about what he did.”

She wanted to tell Chara that probably wasn’t the wisest decision she could have made. Frisk wouldn’t be surprised at all if she came home to find her room in shambles from one of that bitty’s tantrums.

Frisk definitely didn’t get the bitty craze, and Chara’s own affections for Bossanova might have cemented her already developed opinions on the phenomenon even further. What on Earth did she see as endearing in a creature about the size of a soda bottle that would bite any man that got within ten feet of her?

“Sooooo…” She began, leaning her head on top of Frisk’s, the scattered and plentiful faux golden flower ornaments fastened in her hair dangling in front of her friend’s face and brushing up against her nose. “You’re all done with college now, right? You know what that means? We should celebrate!”

Oh no. With the word 'celebrate’, Frisk already knew where _this_ was going. _That’s_ why her bag was so heavy! She wasn’t buying supplies for herself, no, as if she would _ever_ let Bossanova run that low on bittycare products. This woman was absolutely **_determined_** to set her up with some manner of bitty by the day’s end, that was her plan from the very beginning!

“No.” Frisk answered before she could go any further with her idea.

“You didn’t even let me finish!” She whined loudly.

“Because I already know what you’re about to suggest and the answer is 'no’, we’ve been through this. I don’t want a pet bitty.”

“Bitties aren’t pets, Frisk. They’re sapient beings with their own individual thoughts and personalities. Pets also can’t have verbal conversations with their owners, either. …Unless it’s a parrot, but still, you know what I mean.”

“They’re kept behind glass pens and they still cost money, I know that much.”

“I know the whole keeping them in pens thing makes them sound animalistic, but they’re not. They’re nice and clean, and they don’t look like pens at all really, at least not the kind that you would see in an actual pet store. And the reason why they cost money is mostly just a system instated to ensure that the chosen bitty will go to a home that can financially provide for them, and the centers can’t run themselves on just donations, Frisk. They’re. Not. Pets.”

“Even so, I still don’t want one.”

“Come ON, Frisk! Just give the idea some thought instead of shooting it down like a fully loaded fighter jet every time!” Chara booped her nose, then moved to squish her cheek against Frisk’s. Frisk was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “You always look so sad and lonely. Even when we were kids, you had that kind of gray funk around you. Don’t even try to deny it, you know it’s true.”

Chara pressed her index finger against Frisk’s lips when she opened her mouth to protest further. If Frisk had less dignity, she would have considered biting her. That’s what Chara would probably do if it was _her_ finger, and she should be used to it with all the time she spends around Bossanova anyway.

Instead of bringing herself down to the level of Chara or a rabid bitty, Frisk instead grabbed her hand, not forcefully though, and slowly pushed it back towards her.

“Please stop, this is getting weird.”

“It got your attention, though. Didn’t it?” She smiled at her with false innocence. “Please, Frisk? I know you think I’m being pushy, but I really am just thinking of your best interests. You’ve always had such a hard time talking to people, but monsters, they’re _different_, I’m telling you. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like… they see the _real_ you in a way that most humans just can’t and won’t make the effort to try to do. The people we come across think you’re all sour and prickly and, well, a wet blanket. And so do I, sometimes.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And you are all of those things, but only on the _outside_.” Chara continued, completely ignoring her sarcastic remark. “The real Frisk is a soft squishy marshmallow that wears a full-body suit made of cactus so all the meanness in the world doesn’t wear her down. Any time somebody gets too close, they get full of needles. Except for me, of course! I’ve known you long enough to see through all your self-defense mechanisms that are really more self-_destructive_ mechanisms at this point.”

“…Chara, what exactly is your point?” Frisk asked after a beat, not willing to admit that a lot of what she just said, while incredibly bizarre, _was_ also terribly accurate.

“My point is that I’ve kept you all to myself for all these years, but now the time’s come to share you with someone that’ll actually appreciate you for who you are.” She declared with confidence as she puffed out her chest, one hand on her hip and the other reaching up to pat Frisk on the head.

“And this someone… is a bitty.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yup!” Chara bobbed her head.

“No.”

“**_Yes!_**” She argued, standing up to tower over Frisk while pointing a finger at her nose, pressing and poking it. “Listen, I get that you think Bossanova is a handful, and he is. He’s a little monster in every literal and figurative sense imaginable, but there are a lots of different kinds and classifications of bitties! There’s Sansies and Ruses and Blueberries and…and…! Look, I have a theory that there’s a bitty out there for everyone! Every decent person, that is. And you’re a decent person, even if you don’t think so yourself. So we’re going to get on that bus, go to that adoption center, and we’re going to find you the bitty that you’re destined to fall in love with! Have I made myself clear?!”

“Chara-”

“**H a v e I m a d e m y s e l f c l e a r…?**”

“…”

Frisk avoided her intense gaze, looking anywhere else but her for the longest time.

Chara plopped back down next to her with a loud sigh, giving Frisk’s hand that was closest to her a little tap. When she didn’t respond, Chara wiggled her own hand into her’s and gave it a squeeze.

“How about this: we just take a look around and see how that goes? And if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to play or interact with any of them. Just look around, that’s it. You’ve never even been inside before, so at least check the place out before rejecting the idea of adopting entirely. And if you still insist afterward that you don’t want anything to do with adopting a bitty, I’ll never bring it up to you ever again, promise.”

“…”

Frisk bit your lip. The offer was tempting. She wouldn’t even have to do anything; just humor Chara for the afternoon and she’d leave the issue alone forever. And she could agree with her on one thing; she hadn’t ever seen the interior of an adoption center, so just walking around inside didn’t sound like too bad of a time. Like a petting zoo featuring micro skeleton monsters. But still…

“…I’ll buy you dinner after?”

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara was practically vibrating in her seat. She chattered animatedly about the different kinds of bitties the center had available while her friend halfway listened to her ramblings. With how excited she was, it almost made Frisk feel guilty over the very large likelihood of coming out of the building holding the same opinion on adopting as she did before.

Admittedly, she had, on occasion, wondered what it would be like to have one of the pygmy skeletons in her company, but only after a while of seeing Chara together with Bossanova. She had always been a happy person, but after he entered her life, her joy had increased threefold. Then Frisk began to look around her and see other people happy in the company of their bitties, and the bitties happy and enjoying their company just as much.

Seeing this never-ending circle of happiness unfold around her, it made Frisk want to experience a little bit of that happiness for herself…

But her awkwardness around others was bound to extend to bitties as well. She tried to make conversation, but her attempts always fell flat. It seemed as though she always said the wrong thing, she cared too little or too much about a subject matter, she came off as too clingy one moment and too aloof the next. Relationships of any kind were far too difficult for her to deal with, she surmised.

It was just so much _easier_ to push everyone away. But Chara, she had to be different. She was the only one that pushed _back_. And she kept pushing until she landed in Frisk’s good graces, earned her trust. For years now, Chara’s been her only friend, and Frisk was content with that.

But after all that talk of having her to herself for years and it being time to share her with somebody else, Frisk couldn’t help but wonder…

Was Chara’s relentless endeavoring to convince her of adopting a bitty Chara’s way of getting some breathing room? Was their friendship actually smothering her now and she’s simply too kind to admit it?

“We’re here!” She nearly squealed in Frisk’s ear before grabbing her arm, dragging her off the bus and away from her internal monologue. Chara then commenced shoving her towards the adoption center’s front doors.

It _looked_ small from the outside, but Frisk knew from Chara’s numerous recountings of her previous trips here that there was much, _much_ more space on the inside. It would have to be a big place if it held at least _half_ of all the different varieties of bitties she remembered Chara telling her about in the past half hour, and she hadn’t even been listening to most of her rantings during that time, so Frisk was certain she hadn’t picked up the names of every one she mentioned.

The bell at the top of the door jingled when it was opened, alerting the keeper of the establishment, the mama, as she recalled Chara explaining. Apparently being the mama didn’t require being female, because a very much male arachnid monster wearing a crisp white pocketed apron hurried over to greet them.

“Hi, Chara! I wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon. Weren’t you here just earlier today?” He then noticed Frisk and sent a toothy smile her way. “My name is Webber. You must be Frisk, right? Chara talks about you all the time whenever she stops by. You were a very cute baby!”

At Webber’s sugary-sweet giggle, she slowly turned her head towards Chara in a manner that must have looked like a real-life reenactment of the iconic scene from _The Exorcist_, who only gave her a goofy face in response to an action that would have greatly disturbed literally anyone else.

“You showed the employees here my baby pictures…?” Frisk hissed between her teeth.

“Yeah.” She replied, gleefully pulling out her wallet from her back pocket and unfolding it to pluck out one of the photographs. “He’s right, though. You _were_ a really cute baby!”

“Why do you even carry that around with you?!”

“Because you’re my sister and I love you.”

“…I love you too.” Frisk mumbled in defeat, figuring there was no use in getting mad at her over it now; what’s done is done.

“So, are you here to browse, or…?” Webber decided to steer the conversation towards something more on topic, his hands clasped and a hopeful sparkle in his eyes - his very many eyes.

Frisk nervously toyed with the collar of her shirt. “I’m actually just here to look-”

“She’s _kind of_ on the fence about it!” Chara butted in. “We’re going to look around and see if there’s any bitty she takes a shine to. I’m sure there’s got to be one that she’s bound to love with all the different types here.”

“We do have a very large selection available, my hands can definitely attest to that! Always busy!” Webber grinned, waving his six hands at her. “It’s actually a lot easier to just list the types that _aren’t_ here. Even so, I think a bitty of every kind that we know about has been in this building at least once.”

Frisk had a feeling she was going to be here for a while, if Chara has her way. She’ll most likely insist that they view each and every classification of bitty kept here before allowing her to leave the adoption center’s grounds.

“…Hey, Chara? Where’s Bossanova?” The spider monster asked as he pointed to her shoulder, now noticing the small skeleton’s absence. “He wasn’t with you the first time you were here today either…”

“He’s been grounded.” She answered with a huff. “He bit a guy yesterday while we were out on a walk, so now he’s in trouble.”

“Oh dear… You do know he only does that because he sees you as his partner and he’s upset over what he perceives as competition, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s flattering sometimes, but really, the poor guy was just asking for directions. It’s not like he was flirting with me or anything, even though I am _irresistable_.”

_“Oh my stars, Chara…”_ Frisk thought with an internal eyeroll.

Even though Frisk knew Chara was just joking, well, _mostly_, she was also _right_. Chara herself flirted playfully, but she was ironically incredibly dense when it came to others flirting with _her_. She couldn’t differentiate between a serious or teasing atmosphere, so she opted to believe that the latter was always the case, frustrating those that had their eyes on her immensely.

Chara was beautiful and kind, everything that Frisk wasn’t. It was obvious to Frisk why she would have a drove of admirers. Of course, since Bossanova’s adoption, he did an exceptional job of keeping said admirers at bay despite his small size. At least she could trust in him that he would keep any and all creeps away from her precious sister.

As the discussion over Bossanova stretched on with no conclusion in close sight, Frisk decided to wander away from the two for the time being and check out the center’s interior for herself. She soon found herself in a room that was somewhat small for a group composed of a few people, but immensely spacious for a pack of bitties. The walls were painted with soft colors, pastels, and on them were images of stars, fluffy clouds, and other things like what one would expect to find in a nursery. Was this where they kept the children bitties?

If she was ever coerced into adopting a bitty, it wasn’t going to be a child. She had little patience for small children, but she supposed there wasn’t any harm to be found in looking around.

Frisk quietly tip-toed further into the room towards the nearest pen housing a solitary bitty, all by its lonesome. Leaning closer to examine the monster, it was rather… _big_ for a bitty. It was larger and bulkier than most of the bitties she had seen before, about the size of a teddy bear. She was beginning to have doubts about this one being a baby.

A blanket was thrown over its body and its head was shoved under a pillow, its form almost entirely concealed to her. The bitty’s fidgeting was near constant in its slumber, when suddenly, it froze. It remained still as a statue for several long moments. The seconds dragged on, and when those seconds reached minutes was when she wondered if the poor thing had accidentally smothered itself with that pillow in its sleep.

Could skeleton monsters even die of asphyxiation?

Before she could grow too concerned, however, it moved again. The bitty tore off the blanket covering its body and threw the pillow to the side, revealing its full appearance to her – a stocky skeleton monster with a huge, glaring red eye, an unsettlingly wide, toothy grin, and a gaping hole in its head.

_“Nope, **definitely not** a baby!” _Frisk thought with growing horror as she jumped away from the pen with a yelp.

This wasn’t in any way a nursery, she realized too late. If she had payed attention at all to Chara on the bus ride here, she would have known. This adoption center didn’t have children bitties in their care, so they wouldn’t need a nursery – _this was the room for rescues_.

The disfigured bitty didn’t seem bothered by Frisk’s reaction in the slightest, rising up on its two feet to make its way over to her. There was a thick layer of glass separating the two, but that did little to comfort her in this situation. The monster’s glowing eye was trained on Frisk, focused and unwavering as it stepped closer. The bitty didn’t stop until it reached the wall of its pen, fully pressing itself up against the glass.

“hhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…..” The bitty drawled in a deep gutteral tone, smiling at her with a nauseating grin.

There was something clinging to the corners of its mouth; it was either pillow stuffing or he was foaming at the mouth. Frisk slowly backed away from the pen with hands raised in a defensive position, continuing to do so even as the bitty’s hands made frantic clawing and grabbing motions at her. On her way out, she bumped into something, whirled around, and let out a scream she didn’t even know she had been holding.

“Sorry! _Sorry!_” It was just Webber. “I didn’t mean to scare you! That’s, uh, that’s Chopper over there. …I can see you two have already met.” He winced, taking in the expression on her face, which must have been ghastly.

Chara poked her head in swiftly after. “Did you find Frisk, Webber?”

All Frisk could do was weakly point a trembling finger towards Chopper before rushing forward and throwing her arms around Chara’s neck as she tried not to start bawling. Chara wrapped her own around Frisk and began patting the other girl’s back and smoothing her hair.

“I know how you feel, Frisk. The first time in the rescue room is always the toughest. I wish you hadn’t seen this, not today and not like this.”

That sweet little domestic image Frisk held of all the bitties living blissfully alongside their owners had just been shattered – **_how_** could someone do **_this_** to a bitty?

“…What kind of bitty is he?” Chara inquired curiously after a few minutes of her and Webber making a team effort to calm Frisk down. “He looks like a Sansy, but…”

“That’s because he _was_ a Sansy…” Webber began to explain, wringing his apron nervously with his two lowermost hands. “Sometimes certain classifications of bitties come to be when certain conditions are met. In his case, he was a Sansy that became an Axe type bitty due to near starvation and receiving a severe blow to the head. It was a miracle that he survived at all.”

“The person that did this to him needs to be dragged out into the streets and shot.” Chara immediately replied, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.

Frisk and Webber gazed at her, gobsmacked, along with some of the other bitties in the room. Her remark was so sudden, not to mention disturbing, even Chopper ceased rubbing his face against the glass of his pen to peer at her quizzically with widened eyesockets.

“Er, um, I think you’ve seen enough of the rescue room today, right, Frisk?” Webber stuttered, looking at anywhere else but Chara at the moment. He then crouched down in front of the now identified Axe bitty and spoke to him in a gentle, encouraging tone, “Say goodbye to Frisk, Chopper.”

“b-bye-b-b-bbyyyeeeee…” He managed to choke out, his vocalization almost sounding like a sob.

Frisk whispered a barely audible 'bye’ in return before following Webber and Chara out of the room.

She missed the tearful look in Chopper’s eyes as he watched her go, his phalanges still making small frantic grabbing motions against the glass wall of his pen at her retreating figure.

~~~~~~~~~~

“…That was horrible.” Frisk whispered, every bone in her body quaking.

“I’m so sorry… I usually lock that door. And the one time I don’t, somebody new here finds themselves in there, of all places…” Webber wasn’t certain whether it would be alright to touch her or not, so his hands hovered about unsurely.

“No, I shouldn’t have wandered off in the first place. …I’ll be fine. Maybe seeing some happy and healthy bitties would help…?” She offered, anything to get her mind off of the manifestation of humanity’s depraved cruelty that was present in that room.

“You still want to?” Chara asked, to which Frisk gave a wordless nod in return. “Alright, but if you need to just let it all out, let me know, okay?” She turned to the arachnid monster. “I can take things from here Webber. I’ll show Frisk around the adoption center. I know this place better than the back of my hand!”

“Okay, but if you need me at all, give me a shout or a poke and I’ll be there.” He called, still concerned as he rushed off to carry out his other duties as the mama of the establishment.

“How about we go see the Sansies, huh?” Chara suggested as she unceremoniously shoved Frisk in the direction of the Sansy pen.

The bitties in this pen were much shorter than Chopper, about the height of your average can of soda, but they had the same thick-boned structure. However, a layer of chub was visible on their stomachs that was absent on the Axe bitty she had encountered. These Sansies seemed to be healthy, that much Frisk could take comfort in.

They seemed content behind the glass of their enclosure as well. Among their utilities was a kiddie pool where one of them was dozing off in a doughnut floatie and another was reclining in a miniature folding chair while appearing to be pretending to sunbathe. The others were either lounging about in various positions, napping outright, or speaking to each other in deep, soft mumbles. They weren’t very active bitties, were they?

“A Sansy might be a good match for you, Frisk.” Chara spoke, causing some of the little skeletons to turn your way. “They’re lazy and round, and they’re supposed to be low maintenance. Then again, all bitties are different, even if they are the same type. You might adopt one and end up with a spoiled little prince of a Sansy.”

“…Do they bite?” She questioned.

“Only if you deserve it.” Chara gave her another encouraging push forward. “Sansies are one of the mildest mannered bitties there is. I can count all the cases I’ve heard of one biting somebody on one hand.”

“yeah, i don’t bite, kid.” One of the bitties assured as he sauntered towards them, a relaxed grin on his face as he craned his neck up to look at Frisk, topping off his statement with a wink.

The Sansy held both hands behind his back and bounced from one foot to the other, him staring up at her and her staring back. After a long moment of silence, his grin began to slip just a little around the corners as he gazed at her expectantly.

“…I think he wants you to pick him up.” Chara whispered not so discreetly in Frisk’s ear.

“Is that allowed?” She asked incredulously.

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Chara snorted as if her inquiry was a completely ridiculous thing to wonder about.

Frisk stole a glance at the Sansy, who was still patiently waiting for the girl to reach down and take him in her hands.

“Go on, I know you wanna poke his belly.” Chara repeatedly elbowed her with a grin.

She did, in fact, kind of want to poke his belly, but wouldn’t that be kind of rude? But more importantly, it seemed Frisk was the only one out of the three of them present that acknowledged how much could go wrong with this scenario. What if she accidentally dropped him? What if he landed on his head? What if his impact with the floor resulted in the shattering of his skull? He might turn into an Axe variant, just like the one in the rescue room, and all because she hadn’t been careful enough with him.

Why was she the only one that seemed to be seriously considering that very real possibility? Did these bitties have any sense of self-preservation in them? Were they really that trusting towards complete strangers to not hurt them?

“…What if I drop him?” Frisk unintentionally voiced her fear aloud.

“You won’t drop him.” Chara held back a laugh, trying to take her concern seriously but failing – to her, it would be impossible for Frisk to hurt a bitty even by accident with how cautious she was around them.

“hey, look at me for a sec, pal.” The Sansy grinned up at her. “you’re not gonna hurt me. not even the _littlest bitty_. everything’s going _tibia_ ok.”

“…Was that a pun?”

“Sansies love concocting horrible puns. It’s their specialty.” Chara chimed in. “That’s why they’re so popular. They’ve got that jokey demeanor that’s somehow also uplifting and reassuring, or that’s what I’ve heard. I didn’t adopt a Sansy, so I can’t speak from experience.”

They were both looking at Frisk anticipatingly now – she was promised that she wouldn’t have to interact with any of the bitties if she didn’t wish it, and Chara wouldn’t force her to if she put her foot down about it, but seeing that Sansy looking up at her with just the tiniest spark of hope in his eyelights made Frisk want to muster up the determination to try.

Gingerly, she bent her upper body over the top of the pen and lowered her hand until it was beside him. He smiled, the wide grin he had been wearing appearing more genuine somehow as he toddled over to the outstretched palm. Rather than climb right into the awaiting hand, he took a moment to gently rub his bony cheek against the tips of her fingers, causing Frisk’s hand to twitch and skin to tingle at the contact.

Chara was practically vibrating in place like a bottle of soda about to burst as she watched the interactions between her and the bitty unfold. Frisk could tell she was doing her best not to let out a squeal of delight.

Frisk stared down at the bitty sadly; she couldn’t help it. These poor little skeleton monsters with their fragile bones were entirely at the mercy of anyone that walked out with one. Did they know that? Were they even aware of the fact that any of them could end up as one of those Axe variants if they were unfortunate enough to be taken home by a person with enough violence and apathy in them? Maybe it was better for them to stay behind the safety of the walls of their pen instead of risking them being handed out to humans with evil intentions.

A brief and horrifying image of this kind little Sansy that had taken the time and effort to speak with her morphing into an exact replica of Chopper flashed in Frisk’s mind before she could stop it.

Just as the Sansy was about to take a seat on her palm, she jerked her hand out of the pen, resulting in him falling backwards and onto his rear. He whipped his head up at Frisk with widened eyesockets and that seemingly permanent grin he wore wiped off, looking for some sort of explanation for her sudden change of heart.

“…I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need to be touching or poking around at anybody here. It’s just too much excitement for a first-timer like me.”

“…’s alright. i get it. no pressure.” The bitty shrugged, trying not to look dejected for her sake as he stood up to rub at his sore tailbone.

She realized then that he had just passed up the opportunity to make another bad pun by correcting you with 'don’t you mean any _bitty _here?’. Her rejection had actually stung so much that he had lost any and all desire to make a joke, something his entire classification of bitty was supposed to enjoy doing and were renown for.

It’s all she knew how to do, it seemed – hurt people in some shape or form.

“Chara and I are going to check out the rest of the center, so…” She trailed off awkwardly.

“'k. have fun…” The Sansy replied in a dull tone, shoulders sagged and posture slumped as his dimmed eyelights watched her go.

“Frisk, what was that about?” Chara interrogated once Frisk had speed walked far enough from the Sansy pen.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but…” She grimaced, looking her in the eyes. “One moment I was okay with the idea of holding him and then the next, he suddenly looked just like that Axe…”

“What happened in there must have really shook you, Frisk.” She sighed, though understanding and sympathetic towards her apprehension. She pointed to the pen behind them with a growing smile. “We’re close to the Papy pen, so why don’t we look at them? They’re sure to raise your spirits.”

She didn’t know what a Papy was, but if they were ghost monsters of some sort, Frisk was smacking her for that pun.

They weren’t, though, so Chara had avoided the consequences of telling a terrible pun. They were skeleton monsters like the Sansies were, and every other bitty she had encountered thus far, but looked radically different. While Sansies were short and stout, these Papys were tall and slender. They looked similar to Bossanova, but just an inch or two shorter and lacked all the features that made Chara’s bitty companion appear unfriendly and intimidating.

“HELLO, HUMAN!” One eagerly bounced towards the two with a friendly wave. “MY NAME IS RONDO, WHAT’S YOURS?”

Bossanova? Rondo?

Whoever it was responsible for naming these bitties seemed to have a penchant for music.

“Frisk.” She answered flatly, trying not to let her already less than stellar interactions with the hostile Bossanova taint her impression of this entirely unrelated bitty.

“FRISK, THAT’S A NICE NAME!” Rondo beamed at her, then gestured dramatically to the space around him. “HUMAN FRISK, WOULD YOU LIKE TO STEP INSIDE?”

“No thanks. I’m just here to look today, that’s all.”

Frisk swore her heart panged when she caught the shunned expression that crossed his face for all of a split-second before instantly returning to that smile that was so bright one was almost forced to squint.

“VERY WELL, THEN. I RESPECT YOUR DECISION, HUMAN. MY GREATNESS IS VERY INTIMIDATING, I’M SURE.” He placed a gloved hand over his chest, a dramatic wind that came from nowhere causing the scarf tied around his neck to flutter in the nonexistant breeze. “SHOULD YOU HAVE A CHANGE OF HEART, HOWEVER, I, THE GREAT RONDO, WILL BE HERE!”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded in his direction before stepping over towards the next pen.

_Oh dear_.

Chara gave a gasp of joy at the bitties in what was a new sight to Frisk but a very familiar and nostalgic one for her. Inside was another pack of skeleton monsters, tall and slender like the Papys, but the sharp features they possessed were also _extremely _recognizable to Frisk due to the time spent around Chara’s bitty. Sharp teeth, red eyelights, dark clothing – they were all near exact copies of Bossanova.

“And _these_ handsome little devils are the Edges!” This time, Chara _did_ squeal. “Ah, seeing them makes me miss my Bossanova so much… Why did he have to be a jealous jerk and bite that guy and make me ground him?”

Pushing Chara’s prattling out of her mind, Frisk considered moving along to the next pen, as she knew without a single lingering doubt that she wasn’t adopting another Bossanova, or Edge, as they were called, but one of the bitties flagged her down before Frisk could get too far.

“HUMAN!” The miniature skeleton wearing the finely tailored black suit and crimson cravat shouted, strutting up to the glass between the two of them with all the confidence of a peacock. He placed one hand over his puffed out chest and scrutinized her condescendingly. “WHEREVER COULD YOU BE RUNNING OFF TO SO QUICKLY? COULD IT BE YOU HAVE BEEN INTIMIDATED BY THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH?”

“He has the same name as that character from the game about the lawyers you like so much!” Chara pointed out with apparent glee. “Look at the wittle snappy suit he’s wearing; he looks like he _could_ be a lawyer!”

“I AM THE TERRIBLE EDGEWORTH, POWERFUL AND _FEARED_!” He scowled at her with a light red dusting his pointy cheekbones. He crossed his arms with a huff and turned his nose up. “THERE IS NOTHING ENDEARING ABOUT THE SIZE OF MYSELF OR MY EXTRAVAGANT SUIT, SO CEASE YOUR INANE COOING _IMMEDIATELY_, HUMAN!”

“See that tiny blush there? He _so_ loves the attention.” She leaned over to whisper, not bothering at all with subtlety as she pointed at the fuming Edgeworth. “The defining trait of Edges is that most of them are tsunderes.”

“You know I’ve never really been that fond of tsundere characters, Chara…”

“I know.” She sighed wistfully, not taking her eyes off of Edgeworth, who was steaming like a tea kettle at this point with indignation. “I guess the charm of Edges are just lost on you. But that’s okay. I totally get it. Edges aren’t for everybody. We’ll find you a type of bitty that you’ll like, I’m sure of it.”

With that, she carted Frisk away, Edgeworth still spewing out an endless tirade of scoldings and insistent statements of denial that he appreciated _any_ attention from a lowly insignificant human to their backs.

The next pen was occupied by more Sansies, Frisk thought at first. However, these bitties had rougher and more pointed features than the Sansies, just as the Edges had sharper and more mordacious features than the Papys. They were also noticeably thicker bodied than the Sansies, their clothes being more filled out, especially around the belly area.

Frisk had a secret weakness for small and chubby things, particularly those round birds one would find in the parking lots of supermarkets that weren’t so heavy that they couldn’t fly, but preffered to hop around on the ground, picking at dropped food morsels with their beaks and only taking flight when they absolutely had to.

That’s what these bitties reminded her of.

The fondness she felt for them was immediately replaced with mortification when one took notice of her persisting gaze and grinned, flashing his shark-like teeth. Frisk caught her reflection in the single golden fang in his knife drawer of a mouth.

“c'mere, doll.” He nearly purred, pawing at the glass of the pen separating her from him. “I don’t bite… _much_.”

“Chara, I’m scared.” She whimpered, discarding her cactus armor in favor of cowering at her side like the squishy marshmallow she was inside.

“You are not. He’s six inches tall for pete’s sake, Frisk, and you thought he was cute just a moment ago! I saw it in your eyes!”

“That was before he opened his mouth.”

“Frisk, I won’t lie to you and say that Reds don’t bite, because they most definitely do.” Frisk glared at her, wondering if what she was saying was somehow supposed to be reassuring. “But, it’s scientifically proven that Reds are sixty percent more likely to bite you on the first encounter if you’re a dude, so you’ve only got a forty percent chance of being bit!”

“…That’s still a pretty big margin for error. I’ll pass on this one.”

“c'mon, sweetheart. i’ll behave.” The Red crooned, his mannerisms and sly grin doing little to convince her of his claim holding any amount of truth. “i don’t like makin’ promises, but i won’t bite ya, doll. …maybe give ya some love nibbles 'n a few licks here 'n there, though. eheheh…”

“…The Reds are all perverts, aren’t they?” She tilted her head in Chara’s direction with a weary gaze. Normally, she’d blush profusely at hearing such a thing, but after the day she’d had, Frisk just didn’t have it in her anymore.

“No, they _aren’t_ perverts!” Chara wanted to be stern with her, but she couldn’t resist laughing at her expression. “Some of them _are_ kind of flirty, okay, a lot flirty, but some of them are more temperamental like the Edges, too. It all depends on the individual personality of the bitty.”

“…I still don’t feel too comfortable around this one. And I’m not just saying that because of the abundant air of flirtiness around him.” Frisk said, stealing a glance at his sharp teeth that would undoubtedly break skin if he did decide to bite. “He looks kind of mean.”

“i can be sweet too, if that’s what yer lookin’ for in a bitty.” The Red bargained, beginning to sweat.

She didn’t even know skeleton monsters _could_ sweat, but if they can blush then seeing one sweat shouldn’t be too jarring to her.

“I’m not looking to take any one of you home today, sorry.” Despite his weird display of behavior, she decided it was best to let him down gently.

“tch. fine. be that way, then. you don’t gotta make any excuses, dollie. i get it.” He scowled at her, failing to hide his hurt and disappointment as he turned away from Frisk and stomped his way to the nearest corner of the pen, sitting down and facing the wall. “guess reds are just too mean 'n ugly for most folks to want…”

“…I never called him ugly.” She said, feeling guilty for hurting the bitty’s feelings and saying the wrong thing _again_.

That right there was a shining example of exactly why she didn’t need to adopt a bitty. She’d just end up hurting the poor thing, if not physically then emotionally.

Frisk looked around the pen and took note of the fewer number of Reds when compared to the Sansies or Papys. It seemed they really weren’t a favorable classification of bitty, otherwise wouldn’t the center have more of them around?

“Hey, don’t get too bent out of shape.” Chara comforted her, picking up on the fog of gloom that was beginning to form around her. “Reds are actually pretty popular among some circles. Like I said about the Edges, they’re not for everybody, but some people out there really like their rugged appeal. But when somebody doesn’t take to them, Reds do take it pretty hard. He’ll be okay, eventually.”

She then guided Frisk away from the pen, probably so she wouldn’t break any more of their hearts, metaphorically speaking.

The next pen contained more skeleton monsters – in fact, Frisk hadn’t ever come across a bitty that _wasn’t_ a skeleton monster. Then again, she didn’t know that much about bitties. That much, she did know.

The bitties behaved a lot like the Sansies they saw up front, but they had the likeness of Papys, even more so than the Edges. There wasn’t any asperity to them – they seemed limp and repose, like long little noodles.

“If you really wanted to, you could absolutely hold a Stretch without any worries over being bit at or scratched.” Chara explained, gesturing to one of them that was sprawled out in the lap of a big teddy bear. “You could probably even pick one up and swing him around like a ragdoll and he wouldn’t do a thing about it. That’s how chill they are.”

“That’s entirely too chill.” Frisk complained, now worried for another type of bitty that apparently didn’t have any sense of self-preservation in his bony body.

“you fret too much, honey.” One of them sauntered over, having woken up from his nap in the bitty-sized hammock inside the pen.

“…Honey?” She raised an eyebrow at Chara, unimpressed.

“Eheeheehee!” She cackled, earning a sigh from Frisk.

_“Another pervy-”_ Excuse her. _“**Flirty** bitty.”_

The Stretch in front of them, well, _stretched_, lightly popping his joints, causing a few of the others in the pen to grimace and send him irritated looks for interrupting their own naps. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care, preferring to keep his attention on the both of them, but moreso Chara.

“’m name’s Bebop, sugar.” He introduced himself, punctuated by another pop from his bones.

There was that musical naming theme again. Frisk was surprised nobody here had thought to dress him up like a cowboy…

That’s what she would do, anyway.

“Well aren’t you a charmer!” Chara was enraptured by every word that fell from his bony mouth; Frisk could already see the signs of infatuation in her eyes as she smiled down at Bebop.

“Wow, Chara. One day without him around and you’re already looking for a replacement for Bossanova.”

Chara whirled around to face her with an offended gasp, one hand gripped over her heart.

“How **_dare_** you say that, Frisk! There’s no replacing Bossanova! I probably love him more than I’ve ever loved myself!”

Huh. Frisk had a suspicion for a while now that this was true, but she wasn’t expecting a confirmation of that theory, especially not under these circumstances.

“That’s a lot of love.” She stated blankly.

“I don’t want to replace Bossanova. I just thought it might help improve the more rotten parts of his personality if he had a calmer bitty buddy around him.”

“With how jealous he is, and how flirty this one is?” Frisk waved a hand gesturing to Bebop, who only gave a lazy smile and a wave in return. “That sounds like a horrible idea, Chara.”

She sighed in defeat, bending down to eye level with him. “I’m sorry, Bebop. Our love just wasn’t meant to be.”

“i’ll be waitin’ right here honey, in case you ever change your mind.” He placed a hand against the glass of the pen, aligning his tiny one with the middle of her palm, curling his phalanges as if he were attempting to will the glass to break under his touch so he could reach Chara.

…Frisk was beginning to feel like she was witnessing the separation of two illicit lovers on a soap opera or those Spanish telenovelas her mother watched and ate up like candy. Could this technically count as an affair? This was getting weird!

As Chara withdrew her hand, however, she couldn’t deny that Bebop’s expression seemed somewhat softer, his grin more at ease but melancholy all the same. She thought that he was just going along with Chara’s theatrics, but it seemed now that her rejection had sincerely hurt him.

His drooped eyesockets followed her until she was out of sight.

Chara seemed very enthusiastic about what she was about to show Frisk in the next pen. She seemed to be pinning a lot of her hopes on whatever type of bitty it was awaiting her.

“I’ve never heard of a single instance of one biting anybody! They’re highly recommended for someone that isn’t experienced in handling bitties, which describes you to a T – perfect for a first bitty. And they’re soooooooo _cute_, even you’ll think so, Frisk!”

“I have my doubts, but I’ll go ahead and humor you.”

Ignoring her sour grapes attitude, Chara stepped in front of the pen, obstructing Frisk’s view. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“And _these_ precious little gumdrops are… the Blueberries!”

She stepped aside and allowed her to observe the pocket-sized skeletons. They were yet another classification of bitty that bore more than a few striking resemblances to the Sansies, but instead of appearing intimidating as the Reds were, they had an overall softer look to them. They weren’t as round in the stomach as the Reds, but they still had that supermarket parking lot bird aspect to them that Frisk liked. They were playing happily by themselves, or with each other, not a single sign of discontent or quarrel among them.

All until one peered up to look at her with cerulean eyelights which morphed into the shape of stars, followed immediately by the rest halting in whatever action or task each bitty was performing to do the same.

Suddenly, the entire pack of Blueberries were scrambling in her direction. They swiftly began piling up on each other, tripping on the legs of others and knocking one another down until a shouting and flailing mass of skeletal limbs had formed, a messed up chorus of bitties yelling and climbing all over each other for the express purpose of capturing her interest.

“HUMAN! A HUMAN HAS ARRIVED!”

“PLEASE LOOK AT ME, HUMAN!”

“CHOOSE ME, PLEASE! I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS!”

“I KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS TOO, BUT BETTER!”

“YOU MAY KNOW HOW TO MAKE TACOS BETTER, BUT I MAKE TACOS THE BEST!”

“LIAR, LIAR, BITTY ON FIRE!”

“PLEASE NOTICE ME, HUMAN!”

Frisk slowly backed away from the pen, even though she was in no amount of danger of the Blueberries escaping. But seeing them all clustered like this shouting at the top of their likely nonexistant lungs was, for her, an extremely anxiety-inducing experience. Their voices were all blended together, their movements blurred. It was becoming more and more of a challenge to discern which one was saying what. They had all but become a hivemind to her.

Frisk tenderly rubbed at her temples, feeling a headache beginning to bloom in her skull. All this noise was proving to be too much for her fragile nerves to handle.

“…I can’t do this.”

She spun on her heel and began walking, trying to block out the needy cries and whines of the attention deprived Blueberries behind her. She finally stopped once she’d reached the back end of the building, her speedy and abrupt departure forcing Chara to jog in order to catch up.

“I’m sorry, Frisk, that was probably my fault!” She sputtered, doubled over and out of breath. “I told them about you when I was here earlier today, and I guess I got them a little too rowdy.”

“Chara, that wasn’t even remotely close to 'rowdy’. That was a riot.”

“Blueberries are competitive when it comes to adoption!” She sighed, and for the first time in a long, long while, the smile she always wore, regardless of the current situation or mood, had vanished completely. “Frisk, I know I said before that all you had to do today was look around, that’s it, but I didn’t think then that you’d be like _this_ the entire time…”

“Like _what_?” She nearly hissed, not liking at all what she was insinuating.

“You’re acting completely disinterested, and rude, and… and cold! What’s your problem, Frisk?!”

“You can’t blame me for acting disinterested, Chara.” She barked back, doing everything within her power to keep her own temper in check. “I told you when you first proposed the idea that I didn’t want to adopt a bitty, but you just kept pushing and pushing until I finally agreed in allowing you to drag me here.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it – _dragging_ you here.” Her shoulders squared as she aimed a glare at Frisk. “You really aren’t having any fun at all, are you?”

“How am I supposed to enjoy myself when I know I’m about to lose my best and only friend? Explain that to me, Chara!” She unintentionally exclaimed, causing Chara’s eyes to widen in shock and confusion.

“…Frisk, what are you talking about?” Her voice was uncharacteristically faint.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! You can just say it; I won’t get mad, because I understand!” Frisk shouted, turning her gaze towards the floor – she couldn’t bear to look Chara in the face as her insecurities and fears bubbled to the surface. “It’s the entire reason why you brought me here – if I adopted a bitty, you’d have more time to spend with your other friends or to yourself, right? Being around me is suffocating, isn’t it? Having to constantly put up with someone who’s so anti-social and mean, who always says or does the wrong thing so much that just about everyone waits until I’m gone just to talk with you… I don’t blame you. Not at all. Why wouldn’t you look for the first opportunity to get away from someone like that?”

Frisk hadn’t realized she was crying until she saw a droplet fall down to her feet. Her cheeks were stained with tears, her nose was running. And right in front of Chara, too. This wasn’t the first time she had seen her like this, but it was still something rare for her to witness – Frisk did all her crying behind closed doors if she could help it.

Frisk’s only saving grace was the fact that no employees, other visitors, or bitties behind their glass enclosures were present as spectators of her emotional breakdown. Because the absolute last thing she needed right now was someone seeing her in this state and feeling sorry for her. She definitely didn’t deserve any pity, not when she was such an awful friend.

That’s what she was, an awful friend. A friend so awful that her only companion in life felt that she needed to get a bitty, something that theoretically couldn’t run away from her like everyone else, just so she could get a break.

Frisk heard footsteps – Chara’s footsteps. She saw her moving through the hair covering her eyes and the tears blurring her vision.

This was it. This was the end of their friendship.

She didn’t have to pretend anymore.

She could be free.

Frisk didn’t expect to feel arms around her, one around her back and the other behind her head, but she did. Frisk slowly lifted her head from the shoulder her face had been buried in to see familiar red hair and golden flowers.

_Chara_ – her entire form shook as she held Frisk tightly, as if she would slip away and vanish if she didn’t.

“Frisk, how could you even think that?” She sniffled, much to her shock. If there was one thing more rare than her seeing Frisk cry, it was Frisk seeing _her_ cry. “That… that’s not true! None of that is true! You’re my best friend, you’re my sister, my sister-friend, and I love you!”

“But I’m a horrible friend…” She wept through clenched teeth.

“No you’re not! If anything, I’m the horrible friend!” Chara wailed loudly, pulling Frisk away from herself just enough to look her in the eyes. “I’m the one that’s closest to you, the one that’s supposed to know you better than anyone else and I didn’t even know you felt this way, didn’t even notice!”

_Oh no_, Chara was blaming _herself_ for her episode…

“I didn’t want you to adopt a bitty because I wanted to get away from you!” Chara seemed to be mentally assessing all of her previous statements on the subject, not just today, and blanched. “Oh gosh… _no wonder_ you thought that! What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it like that! I… I was just so happy after I adopted Bossanova. Despite our… vast and various differences, it really felt like he saw something wonderful in me that most people tend to gloss over and wanted to be with me because of that. Bossanova and bitties in general have brought so much joy to my life that I wanted to share it. You were the one that’s made me happiest and has been here with me, despite everything. So I thought that, out of everyone, you deserved that slice of happiness I found the most. That’s why I’ve been so stubborn in pushing you to adopt; I thought that some bitty here might see what I see in you, like what you and Bossanova saw in me…”

Frisk openly sobbed then, wracked with more guilt than before; how could she have _ever_ doubted Chara, her dearest and only friend?

Frisk was thankful that she pulled her back into her shoulder before she could create too much of a racket and cause Webber or some concerned customer to check up on the two of them. What an embarrassing story that would have been for Chara to have to explain. 'My sister is crying because she thought I was trying to get rid of her with a bitty.’

But no, she would never air out her insecurities like that; she’d make a convenient excuse for Frisk, one that wasn’t a lie, but would save her from embarrassment and protect her privacy. Because that was the kind of person Chara was.

Chara fetched some tissues from her shoulder bag, drying Frisk’s eyes and her’s once the both of them had calmed down sufficiently. Thankfully, no one intruded during their moment, and the both of them were cleaned up enough that hopefully nobody would suspect that the two had just been bawling their hearts out to each other.

“I’m so sorry, Chara.”

“No, I am. I’m the one that should be sorry.” She argued, covering Frisk’s mouth for the second time today before she could retort. “I’ve been way too… forceful, about this whole thing. It’s completely true that I had the best of intentions in bringing you here, but the truth still stands that I had to wear you down for literal months and bribe you before you would even begin to consider it. There were things that you enjoyed and went nuts over in your own way that I didn’t, but you never tried to cram those things down my throat like I have.”

“No, it’s really alright. You’re just really passionate about bitties and wanted to share that with me. I get that. But, I just really don’t think I’m properly equipped to adopt one.”

“I understand, Frisk. I really am sorry, for everything. I thought I would be making you happy by bringing you here, but all I ended up doing in the end is make you cry – the last thing I ever wanted to do.” She lightly grabbed Frisk’s hand and began tugging her along. “Come on, we’ll go get dinner and go home if you want, like I promised.”

“Wait.” She said, wiggling out of her grasp. “We can’t go home yet! I… still haven’t seen all of the center.”

“Frisk, you don’t have to force yourself to stay here just to entertain me. You’ve done enough of that already.”

“I… I didn’t dislike everything today.”

“So you’ve actually had some fun? Really?” A faint trace of her usual smile was beginning to reappear.

“Really, Chara. I can think of plenty worse ways to have spent my time.” A light, airy chuckle escaped her throat, but then she frowned when she remembered the poor, mangled thing of a bitty she had seen when first exploring the center. “But Chara… do you really think a bitty would be safe under my care? When I’m like this? They’d just get hurt.”

“Frisk, listen to me.” Chara gripped her shoulders, a serious expression on her face. “I wouldn’t have even considered bringing you here if I ever once thought you’d hurt a bitty. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have reacted like you did when you saw that Axe. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have yanked your hand out of the pen the way you did and refuse to touch any of the bitties because you were afraid of dropping one. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have cut a conversation short because they were afraid of saying something that would hurt a Papy’s feelings. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have been considerate of that Red’s feelings when you shot him down even though you thought he was acting weird. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have carefully considered what might happen if your friend brought a flirty Stretch to a home with a chronically jealous Edge. Someone that would hurt a bitty wouldn’t have walked away from a pen of Blueberries bouncing off the walls, even when this person was a few seconds away from having a nervous breakdown. Even when it looked like you were being unfriendly and rude to someone who didn’t know you like I do, you’ve had nothing but the best intentions in mind for the bitties each and every time. That’s why you would make _the best_ bitty owner, in my maybe not so humble opinion.”

“…I still don’t know how I feel about adoption, but… I’ll look around some more and see if there’s any one that I like. There must be some pens that we passed up when I was running away from the Blueberries.”

“Hmm, just the Blackberries and the Ruses, I think.” She mused aloud, going over the map of the adoption center in her head. “I don’t think you’d like the Blackberries too much, though, so maybe it’s for the best.”

“What are they like?”

“Like an Edge and a Blueberry mashed up together.”

“Pass.” Frisk replied so quickly that it made Chara snort. “What about the Ruses?”

“Weeeell…” She trailed off, bouncing on her heels. “They’re like Stretches, but a little more rough around the edges. Some of them can be kind of standoffish at first, but once one decides they like you, they’ll smother you in love and will literally die for you.”

“That last part sounds a little concerning…” She voiced, the thought of a bitty, something so tiny and fragile, dying for her sake was just too much to bear.

“Some of them get attached to potential adopters easily, so _maybe_ we should skip that one too to avoid any heartbreak, metaphorically speaking.”

“That sounds best.” Frisk agreed, having seen enough sad bitty faces for one day. “So… what else is there?”

“Well, we’re close to where we keep the exotic bitties, over there to your left.”

“Exotic? So these bitties are supposed to be rarer than the others?”

“Precisely.”

“And undoubtedly more expensive than the others as well.”

“…That is also correct.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Frisk didn’t really see what it was that made these bitties supposedly more special than the others, other than the fact that there were much fewer numbers of them in their pens. However, she soon learned that the reason why they were considered exotic was because most of these types of bitties only came to be from another type of bitty when certain conditions were met – they were similar cases to the Axe bitty, but the changes they underwent were entirely harmless.

The first pen the two of them came across were Sansy variants. They looked like the ones they had seen up front of the store in every conceivable way except for the manner in which they dressed. These bitties were either dressed in overalls and straw hats, or kimonos and sandals over socks. The space around them was covered in plants, mostly tomatoes with potted flowers interspersed here and there, with little ladders for the bitties to climb in order to reach them. On the far left side of the pen was some sort of watering hole, and to the far right were several loose pages with information about the plants in their domain scribbled on, likely by the bitties’ own hands judging by the size of the handwriting.

“These are the Farmies. This type of bitty originated in Japan, but a few of them here became influenced without the country’s involvement.” Chara went on to explain further. “Farmies come to be when a Sansy finds and embraces the values of good honest country field work.”

“That must be why there are so few of them.” Frisk remarked, causing her and even a few of the bitties to laugh. “Only Japan could have taken a few lazy lumps of skeleton and turned them into this.”

“Farming has done nothing to diminish their relaxed ways of life. They work hard, but also at their own pace.” Chara corrected her, nodding to one of the Farmies that was taking a nap under the shadow of a looming tomato, a bitty-sized watering can resting at his side. “As you can imagine, they’re loved amongst the agricultural community, but also by sweet little old ladies with gardens.”

“I bet if dad doesn’t have one of them already, he’d love one.” Frisk then frowned. “I don’t really know that much about what’s going on in his life since he and mom split up…”

Before Frisk could dwell too much on her unfortunate family situation, Chara began pulling her away to look at the other exotic bitties there. When she bid them farewell, one of the kimono-clad monsters folded both hands on his lap and bowed before sending them off.

One type of bitty they saw was so rare, there were only two inside the pen. They must have been Papys at one point from what you could tell. Frisk couldn’t see that much of them because they seemed bent on hiding as much of themselves from them as possible. Apparently this classification of miniature skelton was so rare, bitty researchers couldn’t decide amongst themselves if they should be labelled as Greens or Asters, according to Chara. Unfortunately, all the attention they received over their rarity had made them rather quiet and withdrawn.

Their neighbors in the pen opposite were far less shy. There were four of them, and just as with the Greens or Asters, researchers weren’t quite sure what brought them into existence. All that was known was that they stemmed from Sansies. But they didn’t resemble Sansies in the slightest, to Frisk. They were tall, not as tall as a Papy, an Edge, or a Stretch, but definitely taller than a Sansy. They didn’t dress like Sansies, either. These bitties resembled some of the J-Rock boyband members that Chara became obsessed with in her teenage years, with their leather jackets and combat boots; one of them was even holding an acoustic guitar, strumming the strings of the instrument with evident skill and quietly mouthing lyrics to himself.

One aspect about them made every single cell in her body freeze with pure terror when she noticed it, however. Their faces, all four of them, had identical hairline cracks over their eyes that stretched down their cheeks, and in their palms were holes that were so deep they spanned all the way to the backsides of their hands.

These bitties had been hurt, that was all she could think of at the moment. Before Frisk could sink too deeply into her trepidation, Chara quickly rectified her hasty presumption.

“I know what you’re thinking, Frisk, but those cracks and holes are completely natural for Gs. None of these guys have even been adopted before, and nobody that works here would do anything bad to them and get away with it alive. Not while I’m around, anyway.”

“But don’t they… hurt?” Frisk inquired, gesturing to her own face and then the center of her hand.

“Not at all.” The G holding the guitar answered for her. “But thanks for the concern. Nobody’s really ever went out of their way to ask us that before. It’s sweet.”

His voice was low with a slight rasp, different from the deep and lazy tone the Sansies spoke in, but also not _too_ different.

And then she realized that this bitty just called her sweet.

“Uhm… nobody’s really said anything like that to me, either.” She stammered, only to make another embarrassing realization, and that realization being that she was _blushing_.

And Chara and the bitty were enjoying it immensely.

“Gs are entertainment bitties. They charm the masses with their voices and fingerwork on the guitar strings.” Chara quipped, her grin reminding Frisk of a certain meme involving a smug smiling cat.

“That makes them sound more like performers than bitties, from what I know about the both of them. Their talent sounds appealing, but couldn’t someone adopt them for the sole reason of taking advantage of that?”

“You’re a worrier, aren’t you?” His tone wasn’t patronizing, but Frisk felt so when she heard him chuckle, golden eyes gazing at her with mirth. “We’re well taken care of here and our caretakers do their best to ensure we’re handed over to people that won’t take advantage of or abuse us, but sometimes fate deals you an unlucky hand. It’s a sad fact of life, but that’s reality for you.”

“And you're… okay with that? You aren’t ever concerned about falling into the hands of a bad person?”

“Of course it’s something that some of us think about, but we don’t let it consume our every thought. Monsters are a hopeful people, and that includes us bitties. We’ve all got our own seperate thoughts and feelings, but the majority of us try to look at the good in a person and hope for the best.”

She took a moment to absorb his words. Frisk had heard before that the SOULs of monsters were made of love, hope, and compassion. It was a truly beautiful sounding thing, she thought. But these bitties’ innocent hope that they would be adopted out to a home that would treat them well and love them and wouldn’t use and abuse them, it was more heartbreaking to her, mainly because of the overhanging layer of hopelessness to the situation should they end up in one of the homes that would bring harm to them without care.

Another husky chuckle from him caught her attention.

“Although, there’s something you could do to prevent that.” He appeared pensive for a moment, inclining his body closer towards Frisk before breaking out into a broad grin and wiggling an eyebrow(eyebone?) at her. “You could take me home with you. Then neither you or I would have any reason to worry about me being adopted out to a bad home, because that’s something you’re obviously concerned over. I’ve got a nice life here, but being fussed over by you doesn’t sound too bad at all.”

“…Chara, we’re going. He’s making fun of me.”

“No, no, wait! Come back!” He wheezed between his sputters of laughter at her scandalized and disgusted expression. “I won’t tease you anymore, at least not over that.”

Frisk huffed, her cheeks still pink, but at least she’d stopped shoving Chara away from the pen.

“’m sorry. I’m not trying to make fun of you, honest. It’s just… really adorable that you care as much as you do.” He laughed again, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his fist under his chin.

“If you’re wanting me to take you home, you’re really not helping your case here, pal.”

“Probably not. But let me try to make it up to you?” He retrieved his guitar from where it was resting at his side. “I’m not that good, so don’t hold your expectations too high, but I can guarantee it’ll come directly from the SOUL.”

Frisk could admit to herself that ever since Chara mentioned them being bitties that entertained, she was curious as to how he would sound. It looked like her curiosity was about to be sated when he began strumming the opening to a song that might have been familiar to her.

“_There was a time I was in love_

_and all the angels and the doves_

_couldn’t make her say _

_'I love you…’_”

And _heavens above_, his playing, his voice was nearly _divine_. If he referred to _this_ as 'not that good’ then she was utterly terrified of what he considered to be exceptional.

This skeleton, about the size of a doll, had captured Frisk’s complete and unwavering attention, and he was fully aware of this, looking up from his instrument to gaze up at her with a smug grin. But she was too enraptured with his playing to do something childish in retaliation like stick her tongue out at him.

“_Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you_

_How I find myself without you_

_Hello, goodbye, I’m rather crazy_

_And I never thought I was crazy…_”

Finished, he set his guitar to the side again and winked. “So, and be honest now, how’d you like my little performance?”

“Eh, it was better than 'not that good’.” Frisk replied.

Hey, she was being honest with him, just not completely honest.

Her answer seemed to satisfy him, his smirk growing wider. “Oh?”

Then he had the audacity to flutter his eyesockets at her, both elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his bony knuckles. The nerve, the unadulterated _nerve_.

But the truth was, this bitty had honestly almost convinced her in considering adopting him. The teasing was a bit irritating, but it wasn’t out of malice. It was little different than when Chara did so. She knew that monsters were made of magic and were adept at using it – did he use the power of his voice to persuade her like some sort of skeletal siren? Yes, that had to be it.

But the truth still remained that Frisk was seriously mulling over the idea of taking him home with her. And he seemed to know it, because behind the complacentness of his grin and mischievous glint in his eyes was a genuine enthusiasm over possibly finding where it was he belonged.

And then it was all ruined once she spotted the small plaque fastened to the base of the pen listing the adoption fee. Frisk _paled_.

“Um, could-uh, could you excuse us for just a moment? Girl talk.” Frisk stammered as she grabbed Chara by the neckline of her sweater and tugged her away, but he didn’t seem to notice her unease.

“Take your time.” He waved, that grin of his still in place.

She dragged Chara out of earshot of the Gs and stared at her with wide eyes, wheezing.

“What’s up?” She had the courage to ask, taking in Frisk’s expression that was reminiscent of a pigeon shot with a peashooter.

“Chara… did you take a look at the adoption fee attached to that guy?” She choked, grabbing one of her shoulders as leverage to steady herself, knees weak. “I could buy a Nintendo Switch and every single game that’s been announced and released for it that I’ve expressed the _slightest_ bit of interest in for the price over his head!”

“Don’t you mean _under_ his head?” Chara bantered, to which she gave her a dry stare. “Yeah, the kind of people you see with a G bitty are usually famous songwriters and singer-type persons, or wealthy people in general. Their rarity and rising popularity caused their price to catch up with them.”

Frisk managed to halfway compose herself before facing the bitty again. She wasn’t looking forward to what she was about to tell him.

“…I can’t adopt you. I’m sorry.”

“…Oh.” He uttered after a pause that was much too long, the corners of his mouth downturned slightly.

While she had looked like a pigeon shot with a peashooter, he just looked as though he were shot, directly in the heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Perhaps it was more appropriate to say shot in the SOUL? Either way, he looked hurt. And so did Frisk.

“Can I… can I at least ask why?” He questioned, before deciding better of it – maybe he didn’t want to know the answer. “Never mind, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

She wanted to give him an answer that would leave him with no further disappointment, but at the same time, how could she effectively explain to him that her decision was made through no fault of his own, it was just because he was expensive and she was a flat broke currently jobless college graduate?

“It’s nothing that you’ve said or done, it’s not you, let me make that clear!” She waved her hands about frantically before growing still. “It’s just that… you are a luxury that few can afford. And I cannot afford the luxury that is you…”

“…Eh?” His expression looked less hurt now and more confused.

…_He had no idea how much he was worth_.

Frisk crouched down to eye-level with him as Chara had done with Bebop earlier.

“Listen, I sincerely hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you find a good home with a loving owner that can provide for you in a way that I… well, can’t. I was getting ahead of myself back there. I didn’t consider the fine print behind adopting you and accidentally got your hopes up. And for that, I apologize.”

He gave a single nod accompanied by a deep sigh, looking more perplexed than ever with her explanation.

“Alright. I can’t say I understand your reasoning because that’d be lying directly to your face, but I respect your decision.”

“It was nice meeting you.” She offered, not wanting their conversation to end on a sour note.

“Same.”

Frisk and Chara moved on before they could get too sentimental, but as soon as the both of them were out of earshot he turned around to face his other three companions.

“A luxury few can afford… What in the name of creation is _that_ supposed to mean?!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I feel like garbage. I should probably lie down.” Frisk muttered, still feeling terrible for dashing _yet another_ bitty’s hopes for adoption.

Chara patted her back consolingly as she led her around the exotic bitty pens in an effort to cheer Frisk up. She showed her Inkies – Sansies that had transformed after being exposed to the mighty power of art, Gasters – the tallest of discovered bitties, whose lower bodies turned to goop when they were scared (which was often), and the Lamias – Frisk sped right past them once she figured out what they were. She bore an intense fear of snakes, which had only heightened after several years ago when one of their crazy neighbors had illegally purchased a python from the dark web and then didn’t bother to feed it. It soon managed to escape their neighbor’s house and began searching for food elsewhere, and that food had almost been Frisk.

Frisk has led an _interesting_ life.

She had fun with Chara. Frisk had entered the store a few minutes after twelve and it was close to evening now.

“Well, we’ve spent all this time here and I still haven’t found a bitty to adopt.” She remarked, realizing the irony of her statement – she enjoyed herself much more than she thought she would, but was still leaving the building empty handed.

“I’m positive you would have left this store with that G if he hadn’t been so ungodly expensive.” She was probably right, Frisk wasn’t willing to admit. “Hey, that Sansy you first saw seemed to like you an awful lot. You won’t have to pay an arm and a leg to walk out of here with him, and Sansies aren’t bad singers at all if you can prompt them into it.”

“I still don’t think I’m ready to adopt a bitty, though.” She confessed, knowing that the G being out of her reach was probably for the best - she probably would have made a very rash decision had it not been for that.

“Alright, then. You’ve held up your end of the deal, so now it’s my turn. What do you want to eat for dinner, Frisk?”

“Okay, I’ve had hours to think about this, but I’m still not entirely sure.” She mused, going over your favorite fast-food restaurants. “Maybe fried chicken? Burgers? Want to go get pizzas? I’m up for just about anything, really.”

“Pizzas sound good! I’ll get mine with pineapple!”

“Pizzas it is, then.”

With that over and done with, she and Chara made their way to the door. The moment Frisk stepped outside, though, a scream pierced the air around them.

“**_NOOOOOOOO! DOOOON’T GOOOOOOOOOO!_**”

The next thing they knew, the two of them spotted a bitty, a hysterically sobbing Blueberry, sprinting across the floor at mach speed. And his targeted destination was the open door leading to the outside.

“**_Somebody stop him!_**” Webber had burst from the rescue room with a shout, spontaneously summoning an army of employees to catch the runaway bitty.

He dodged the swipes of their hands that came his way, leaping and skidding out of their impending grips until he had reached the doorway in literal seconds. Frisk probably should have closed the door instead of standing there gaping, but she had honestly froze up at witnessing the chaos unfolding around her and it all happened so fast.

Just when the bitty thought he was home free, she reached down and plucked him from the ground in one swift motion, the tiny skeleton screeching and struggling in her hold.

“**LET ME GO!** **_LET ME GO!_** **THIS IS ALL SOME BIG MISUNDERSTANDING, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME!**” He persisted, the volume of his voice only getting louder and louder to the point that it nearly shook the windows. “**SHE DIDN’T LEAVE ME HERE, SHE WOULDN’T _EVER_ HAVE! NOT ON PURPOSE!**”

His shouts of protest soon morphed into incomprehensible shrieks; nothing he said was making any sense anymore. As Frisk finally closed the door and began making her way towards Webber to return the emotional bitty, an abrupt pain shot through her. She let out a yelp, inadvertly tightening her grip around the Blueberry.

_He had **bit** her_.

And he had bit her **_hard_**, grinding his teeth against the thumb across his chest. It was drawing blood now, and it poured freely from her wound and down her wrist.

“Chara… I thought you said you never heard of one of these biting anyone!” Frisk managed to wheeze, tears beading at the corner of her eyes.

“I never have! …Until now!” She squeaked, trying to gently pry the bitty’s mouth from her skin, to no avail.

Several other worried workers tried to coerce him into letting her go, their efforts proving useless. Frisk was certain that if he didn’t release her soon she was going to die of bloodloss. The thought of pinching his nasal ridge and blocking his nostrils entered her mind, but would that even affect him? He’s a skeleton monster – did they even need to breathe? Before she could settle on her next course of action, the Blueberry suddenly stilled. Slowly, he released her thumb from his maw.

He panted, eyesockets dancing across the room until they finally settled on her. Then he slowly turned his head downwards to look at Frisk’s hand, blood still seeping from her thumb like a waterfall. His eyelights shrunk to miscroscopic pinpricks.

“I… I’M SO SORRY…” He choked, now full of remorse. “I… I DIDN’T MEAN TO… I…”

’_Well, you **did**_.’ She wanted to snap after the pain he just put her through, but one look at his tearful expression made her think better of it.

Sighing, she slowly loosened her grip on him. His posture tensed, braced for what could be the worst. Instead of flinging him, Frisk pulled the distressed bitty to her shoulder and cradled him, rubbing little circles into his back with one finger.

“…It’s alright. Just don’t do it again, please. That really hurt.”

He let out another agonized wail, ashamed. A fresh series of sobs escaped the Blueberry bitty as another string of apologies fell from his mouth. Each time it seemed he was close to calming himself, he would take a look at Frisk’s bleeding hand or his bloodstained clothes and break out into another round. It wasn’t long until her shirt had a large wet spot from where he had cried so much. Some of the employees tried to take him from her, but she batted their hands away, a bit irritated with them that they couldn’t seem to comprehend that now was not the time for that.

When his howls finally died down to sniffles, Frisk had expected some sort of incoming explanation for his behavior, an attempt at saving face after that random violent episode, but instead he seemed more concerned with seeing that her injury was tended to.

Rather than Webber or one of the other employees getting her a roll of bandages or the like, they were rather insistent on getting the bitty to take care of it. Was that supposed to be some sort of punishment for biting her and causing the damage in the first place? It definitely hurt, she couldn’t deny that, but he was clearly having a panic attack or something of the like when he did so, so she didn’t think it was exactly fair of them to expect him to make up for something he didn’t have any conscious control over.

Still, the Blueberry didn’t argue with this decision, probably still too wracked with guilt to argue, she presumed.

Frisk waited, but there were still no rolls of bandages or any other type of medical supplies being passed off to the bitty. Just how was he expected to help her if they weren’t going to give him anything to help her with…?

There was a noticeable lull in the space around them, Webber, the employees, and even Chara eyed the Blueberry bitty in her bloodied hand with anxious expressions; hopeful, but nervous.

Before Frisk could question this, he then placed his mouth over the gaping wound in her thumb, making her gasp at the sudden contact, since the last time he had done so, it was to bite her, even if unintentionally.

He was kissing her – kissing her thumb to be precise. And despite being a skeleton, a magical skeleton monster, but a skeleton nonetheless, it felt very much like an actual kiss should have felt.

And Frisk being Frisk, inexperienced in the ways of regular and expected physical contact, could only let out an undignified squawk at the gesture, her gaze bouncing around to every person present, and she at a complete loss on what to do in this situation. …Why was no one explaining anything to her?!

The miniature skeleton pressed his bony lips more firmly to her wound, and suddenly, the room was bathed in a faint cerulean light. Her bleeding had ceased, and the wound itself seemed to have shrunk somewhat in size, but when he pulled away, there was still a certain pain present in the affected area. It would probably be sore and bruised over in the next few days.

“…THAT’S THE BEST I CAN DO AS OF NOW. I’M SORRY…” He lamented, looking far more exhausted than he had been before.

“Th-That’s alright. Thank you for healing me…” She stuttered, grateful for his effort anyway.

His eyesockets drooped; he staggered and swayed in her hand, latching onto Frisk’s other fingers for support. She had heard of certain monsters possessing healing magic, but how effective it was depended on their statistics, specifically their HoPe. Father was an excellent healer. So was mother, but Toriel had experienced so much tragedy through the years that her healing magic wasn’t as effective as it used to be.

But for this monster to be this worn down after using that little amount of magic, his HoPe must be severely low…

The employees were still fluttering around her, ready to take him from Frisk’s hold. However, when one strayed to close, the Blueberry let out a soft gasp and leaped to cling to her drenched top. Such a reaction would be concerning if it wasn’t for the apologetic and sheepish expressions on their faces when he did so. They looked worried for the both of them.

“Y-YOU’RE NICE… YOU DIDN’T GET MAD AT ME, EVEN AFTER I BIT YOU. I… I DIDN’T MEAN TO! BUT I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE RIGHT NOW.” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “She said I had a home with her… She promised…”

Frisk thought she had an idea of what had caused this bitty to have an emotional meltdown. From the sound of it, this bitty had a previous owner, but he had been returned here against his will.

It was a tragic situation, but bringing him back to the adoption center was a far better fate than being neglected and abused or set free where anything could happen to him.

“W-WERE YOU LEAVING BEFORE?” The bitty asked, one tiny fist inadvertly clenching the fabric of her shirt. “DO YOU… DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO NOW…?”

She and Chara _had_ just been about to leave, but abruptly handing him off to the employees now after all that just seemed wrong. He clearly still needed some form of reassurance, some form of comfort, and for whatever reason, this bitty felt that Frisk was the one who could give that too him at this moment.

She cradled him against her shoulder and rubbed a finger down his spine. “I can stay for a little while longer.”

And just that was enough for the Blueberry to relax somewhat – he already looked far calmer than he had been mere seconds ago. He clung to and nuzzled against her as an employee pointed her towards a cozy but spacious room to the left – the bitty interaction area. It was getting late into the evening so there shouldn’t be as many customers as there would have been when she and Chara first arrived earlier, but the room was conveniently empty. She settled herself onto a plush couch, the low volume of the TV serving as white noise.

“…Do you have a name?” Frisk asked after a few silent minutes of holding the bitty.

“NO. NOT ANYMORE.” He answered, his tone listless. “I’VE HAD MANY NAMES. BUT THEY AREN’T MINE NOW. AND WHEN I DO HAVE ONE… I NEVER GET TO KEEP IT FOR LONG BEFORE I HAVE TO GIVE IT BACK.”

“Didn’t the adoption center ever give you one?” She asked, remembering Rondo, Edgeworth, Bebop, and less pleasantly Chopper – they lived here and they had names.

“NO! I DON’T WANT A NAME FROM THE CENTER. I WANT ONE FROM MY OWNER. I REFUSE TO ACCEPT _ANY_ NAME UNLESS IT’S FROM MY OWNER!” His voice rose, causing her to jump a little.

At feeling Frisk’s body jerk, the bitty flinched himself, ashamed of his sudden outburst.

He had been adopted and returned several times – did he even know how many times his hope had been raised only to be dashed when he was once again coralled into a carrier and returned to the familiar center? He had lost count long ago. Numbers were meaningless to him now.

Many would argue that awaiting adoption in a store where all his needs were tended to meticulously by a caring staff was a merciful existence compared to those who were mistreated or abused by their owners when they were no longer wanted, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look at his situation from that perspective.

The Blueberry knew there were far more unfortunate bitties than himself in the world, but the pain and longing in his SOUL for companionship just became too much some days that it felt as though he were slowly withering away and nobody noticed or cared.

Frisk wondered what it was about this specific Blueberry that caused him to be adopted out and returned numerous times.

Chara had been visiting the center since it opened; she was probably aware of his story. Even so, Frisk felt that to ask her would be an invasion of his privacy. Chara hadn’t followed them into the room in order to give the pair privacy, but right now Frisk found herself at a loss on what to do and wished her friend were here to guide her in this predicament she’d found herself in.

It was obvious to her, even though he hasn’t said anything yet, that the Blueberry without a name was already growing attached. Frisk hadn’t come here looking to adopt, and if she felt that she couldn’t provide for a healthy bitty, then she certainly wasn’t equipped to provide for a bitty that was clearly emotionally damaged and possibly unstable.

But… she could understand his pain all too well.

Frisk was never friends with someone for long before suddenly they removed themselves from her life altogether. It was always for some reason or another, but the sole constant among them was their reason for withdrawing was placed solely on her shoulders – it was always her fault, something that she said or did. Just her. The only person that never ran away, placed blame on, or took advantage of her was Chara. And even then, Chara had to fight tooth and nail to get the other girl to accept her friendship. Frisk had been hurt so many times, she had began erecting barriers around herself to avoid others, no longer trusting. She had lowered them for her, but never since has this happened again.

But this bitty, unlike her, had never truly lost hope. He graciously opened the doors to his SOUL whenever a new owner entered his life, despite everything he experienced thus far, because the fear of turning away someone that might truly come to love him vastly overweighed the fear of being hurt once again. And hurt again he was – time and time again.

The two sat in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It was a peaceful calm.

“…ENOUGH ABOUT ME. WHAT’S YOUR NAME?” He had timidly asked after shouting at her.

“…Frisk.”

“THAT’S A NICE NAME.”

“No it’s not. It’s weird.”

He only shook his head once with a gentle smile, saying softly before falling into silence, “I like it.”

Frisk’s gaze was on the TV in front of them, but she wasn’t really paying attention to the program playing on the screen at all. Her thoughts were swimming, thinking of everything and nothing all at once.

She hadn’t noticed that, shortly after his outburst, the Blueberry bitty in her company had moved from clinging to her shoulder to her chest, directly over where her heart resided. He was listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat, nearly lulled into slumber with the combination of her absentminded strokes beginning at the back of his skull and ending at his lower spine. Up and down. Slowly.

She was also unaware of the faint glowing of her SOUL at this time, as well as his. Both were so absorbed in their thoughts and emotions, neither noticed. Glow and fade. Glow and fade. Brightened then dimmed. Brightened and dimmed. The two’s SOULs flickered in perfect sync with each other – a SOUL resonance.

Only monsters and humans that shared a strong bond with each other could perform such a feat, and the two were entirely unaware of it. Their feelings were unconciously shared with one another, his and her pain and hardships were conveyed to one another in a language that stretched beyond vocalization, a conversation without the need for words.

Their SOULs spoke with each other in a manner unlike either had ever experienced before, as if comforting one another. Frisk found herself feeling more at ease with herself and the world. And now bearing knowledge of the tender secrets her guarded SOUL was whispering to his, he felt as though this human had been specially crafted by the heavens above solely for him – a reward _just for him_ for his longstanding and unwavering faith.

He wondered if such thoughts could be considered selfish, even delusional, but he couldn’t stop them. His SOUL was calling out to him, nearly shouting, telling him – “She’s the one. She’s the owner you’ve been looking for. She came for **_you_**.”

And it did seem as though fate itself and the forces that be alligned just to make this meeting possible. An injured young woman who held no interest in bitties appearing before him, encountering her just as she was about to leave, perhaps forever, and she showing interest in him, being _gentle_ towards him when he had not been to her. She was kind to him even after injuring her. Understanding when he couldn’t properly heal the wound he caused despite his best efforts. And now she was spending time with him, holding him close against the most vital part of her human body, even though she had been about to leave before meeting him.

He wondered if this was what love felt like. _It **had** to be_.

The bitty lifted his head to gaze at her, his baby blue eyelights shifting into pulsating hearts throbbing in time with the beat of her heart and the synchronized wavelength of their SOULs.

Frisk happened to peer down just as he did so and stilled like a deer in the headlights, immediately taking notice of the expression of pure affection on his little porcelain doll-like face. He was staring up at her expectantly, like nearly all of the other bitties she had interacted with today. Except this expectant stare reached an entirely new level of intensity **_by far_**.

And all Frisk could think was 'this wasn’t suppose to happen. This **_shouldn’t_** be happening.’

But it was.

Taking a deep breath, she moved him away from her chest. He instantly found himself missing the warmth, but settled into the palm of her hand and took hold of her thumb, showing caution in avoiding her injury when nuzzling against the digit. He wasn’t showing any awareness of the somber and regretful mood encompassing the human holding him, his tiny hands stroking over the wounded flesh with a feather light touch so as not to aggravate it further.

His oblivious gestures of adoration only made what Frisk was about to do more difficult.

“…Isn’t it about time for the shop to close for the evening?” She asked, her voice more faint than she wanted it to be. “Shouldn’t you be getting settled for the night?”

His eyelights immediately lost their heart shape, turning into wobbly spheres as he stared at her in disbelief.

“…WHAT?” He questioned, unblinking. “B-BUT I THOUGHT…”

“Yes. I know what you thought…” Frisk bit her lower lip, nearly puncturing it as she did so in her nervousness. “But I didn’t come here today to adopt a bitty. I can’t adopt any of you. I’m not the right person.”

“T-THAT ISN’T TRUE!” He protested, his hands fluttering over his ribcage. “I FELT IT! YOU’RE THE RIGHT PERSON FOR ME! MAYBE THE ONLY ONE! YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE FOR ME! MY SOUL TOLD ME SO! A-AND YOURS… DIDN’T YOU FEEL ANYTHING LIKE THAT TOO…?”

She had felt something similar indeed. A SOUL resonance was the equivalent of one SOUL tenderly embracing the other – it wasn’t something total strangers could do with each other, in theory. It was a gesture that involved meaning. A strong emotional bond; platonic, familial, or romantic, had to exist between the individuals involved. But Frisk had experienced a feeling of kinship with him, empathizing, it was almost like a feeling of finally finding the place where one belonged after endless searching. But it was the very fact they so easily and effortlessly resonated that scared her.

“YOU DID FEEL SOMETHING SIMILAR, DIDN’T YOU?” The Blueberry bitty in her palm smiled almost manically, but his eyes were pleading and glazed over with tears. “YOU UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL, AND I FEEL THE SAME AS YOU. THAT’S WHY OUR SOULS RESONATED WITH EACH OTHER’S WITHOUT ISSUE! IT WAS A PERFECT RESONANCE WITHOUT FLAW! SO WE’RE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER!”

“No. You’re wrong.” She weakly shook her head. “The fact that our SOULs resonanced at all is exactly why this can’t work. I've… been hurt. My HP is low. And yours is too. I felt it. You need someone with high HP; someone that will share their HoPe with you, someone that will raise yours instead of bringing it down further. And I’m not the person that can do that for you. I’m not what you need. Do you… understand?”

Frisk was expecting wailing or an extreme meltdown like when he attempted to escape the center earlier, but all he did in response to her rejection was tilt his head slightly downwards to avoid her serious gaze, tears streaming down from the corners of his eyesockets as he responded in a quiet, fragile, and defeated whisper,

“NO… I DON’T UNDERSTAND. NOT AT ALL…”

The Blueberry bitty didn’t struggle or make any further protest when she brought him to the front desk to return him under the staff’s continued care, telling herself that this was the best she could do for him. It didn’t matter how easily their SOULs resonated with one another – the easier he could resonate with her, the more unmatched they were, she thought. He needed someone that could show and give him what she never could – HoPe.

And what a cruel irony it was – she had given him more HoPe than anyone he had ever met and probably ever would in the future, if he still had one, that is.

He didn’t need someone with an outpouring of HoPe.

He needed _her_.

“I truly hope, with all my heart and SOUL, that you’ll find the owner right for you.” She said before leaving him, but he didn’t offer her a single reply, only a blank and emotionless stare.

He already found the right owner for him.

And she was going out that door, out of his SOUL’s reach.

His eyes were trained on her as she left the center with Chara, staring at her for as long as he was allowed before Webber scooped him up to carry him back to the rescue room for the evening.

He wondered if he would live to see the sun again tomorrow morning. Nothing seemed to matter anymore now.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chara stepped towards the bus stop, but a slight tug on the sleeve of her sweater stopped her.

“Can we… take the long way home…?” Frisk asked, her emotional exhaustion plain and visible in her expression.

“…If that’s what you really want.” She answered, having thought that her friend might want to sit down for a spell after everything she had experienced today.

Frisk was tired. So tired. But she felt the need to move, to walk away with her own two legs even though they felt heavy as lead.

She and Chara trudged down the sidewalk, about five miles away from their street and night vast approaching, but their town was safe and both of their parents had been informed they might be returning home late, so they weren’t in any hurry.

And Chara could tell Frisk needed some quiet time. She didn’t say a word as they walked home, knowing the other’s mind was likely plenty noisy at the moment. Frisk’s eyes were far off and distant, meaning her thoughts were anywhere but here, and if Chara were to guess, she would be more than willing to bet on the probability of her thoughts being on a lonely Blueberry bitty at the adoption center they just left.

She was disappointed when Frisk had returned him to the establishment, but she understood that her reason for doing so was out of kindness. Even so, she was worried. For the both of them, and was left wondering if this truly was for the best like Frisk insisted.

They were now passing through a farmers market, the shopkeepers still pushing for sales despite the late evening hour, but it wouldn’t be long before they too would be packing up their produce for the night and returning to their own homes. Frisk lifted her heavy head and spotted one of the straw-hatted vendors with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder and swinging his legs as he nibbled on a cherry tomato.

Her heart hurt. Her SOUL hurt.

She really had wanted to take him home with her.

She argued with herself that this _was_ for the best, that Blueberry would soon find an owner just for him, that would love and never abandon him, that would give him everything he needed that she couldn’t ever hope to provide.

She continued to tell herself this as a plethora of unpleasant thoughts and scenarios plagued her mind.

_“When a monster’s HP drops to zero, they dust.”_

When she handed him over to Webber, he had been silent, limp, and listless, when his reaction to rejection, as she previously observed, had been a loud outburst of screaming and tears and a violent flailing of skeletal limbs.

His eyelights had looked dull and lifeless when she left, and all she could picture now was the morbid image of the spider monster checking up on him in the morning only to find a small pile of dust where he had tucked him in the night before.

Frisk was quietly sobbing before she knew it.

She recalled the loving expression on his face as she held him close to her in comfortable silence, their SOULs resonating just as he had said they did, perfectly and without flaw. Frisk despised such words as 'perfection’ and 'flawless’ because such things didn’t exist in human beings or even monsters, but there truly was no other manner in which to describe it.

She had been everything he had ever wanted. And he was everything she wanted too.

And she had just ignorantly thrown that connection away. Tossed it aside.

…Why did she ever think what he needed was an owner with substantial HoPe?

Couldn’t they heal each other?

Frisk’s steps screeched to a grinding halt. Chara turned towards her, concerned and prepared to ask what was wrong with her friend, but before the first syllable could leave her lips, Frisk swiftly turned around and ran with more purpose than she ever had before in her life.

She raced through the farmers market, not hearing Chara’s questioning cries and pleas for her to slow down as Frisk’s pace quickened ever further. Frisk was bumping into every person that crossed her path, and she was far too focused to apologize at this moment, but she did acknowledge that she may have knocked over one vedor’s cart in her rush to get to her destination.

“_**MY CABBAGES!**_”

Yes, she most definitely knocked over that cart, she realized.

But there was no time to stop! She could do that later. If she stopped now, or even slowed down, she might be too late!

She reached the adoption center within minutes, wrapping her hand around the door’s handle and praying that they hadn’t closed and locked up for the night. They hadn’t, but even if they had, the lock would have given in easily from the force with which she swung the door.

Ignoring the alarmed reactions from the staff, she made a beeline for the very room she had walked out of the first time that day filled with fear, the second sorrow, and now inside with DETERMINATION.

She slammed open the door to the rescue room with a resounding echo, which probably wasn’t the best thing she could have done in a room reserved solely to injured and anxious bitties, but all caution had been thrown to the wind at this point. Her eyes scanned over the pens until she found her bitty. She immediately bent over the glass wall that came up to her chest in height and reached down to snag the Blueberry, nearly falling in the enclosure with him in the process.

He gave a startled squeak at being grabbed so suddenly, but any sense of fear within him vanished and was promptly replaced with confusion once he saw the face of the human who held him.

“…FRISK? BUT I THOUGHT-”

“I thought so too! B-But I was wrong! I want you!” She shouted, nearly choking on a sob as she cradled him with quaking hands. “I may not be what you need, but… I want you. I want you to come home with me.”

He said nothing, didn’t offer a single word of reply – but the smile that stretched across his skull and reached his eyes, crinkling with happiness as a fresh wave of tears began beading at the corners of his eyesockets, only this time out of pure joy was a sufficient enough answer for her.

A small crowd composed of the center’s staff had formed outside the door, the spectators whispering amongst each other and shoving one another aside to get a glimpse of what was happening inside the room between human and bitty. A hush fell over the group and they began to part when Webber pushed through the gathered employees to investigate what the ruckus was about. He had been in the back of the store when Frisk suddenly barged in, so all he had heard was the front door being slammed open and the sound of several footsteps shuffling around. Thankfully there hadn’t been any screaming at the moment, otherwise he would have called the police over something entirely harmless.

His many eyes watched both Frisk and the Blueberry bitty for a minute, taking in the sight as both bawled, but their faces were unmistakably happy. He slowly approached the two, not wanting to break the reverie before him, but it was necessary for him to do so.

Frisk raised her head up to look at him, having sunken to the floor onto her knees long ago in her wave of happiness, regret and relief.

“I-I’ll give anything I have on me for him.” She said, digging in her purse with her free hand to retrieve her wallet. “I’ll pay whatever price you want! Just please let me take him home…”

Webber gnawed on one of his claws in thought – while it was true that all bitties had an adoption fee, money wasn’t the issue here. Adopting a bitty from the rescue room was a serious matter. Usually there was a long list of protocols involved; the adopter had to have visited the center frequently for a period of six months at the very least, the adopter had to undergo a thorough background check, the bitty was required to be taken in for check-ups by the staff, and then there were all the procedures that had to be undergone before a rescued bitty was given the mark of approval to be adopted.

But… Frisk was Chara’s sister. Chara had been a volunteer at the center for well over a year, and she spoke nothing but good things about her sister. Everyone who worked there knew Frisk’s name and what she looked like. The staff probably knew more about her than Frisk’s colleages ever had during her years of schooling ever had. And Chara had brought her there today hoping for her to adopt – if Chara trusted Frisk with a bitty, then she could be trusted by the staff with this particular Blueberry.

Webber shook his head and sighed, but he was grinning. “I’ll go get the adoption papers.”

While the small crowd of employees whooped and cheered, the front door burst open for the second time that evening. Chara stood there, panting and gasping for breath while covered in a thick sheen of sweat. It took her several moments and downing a whole bottle of water later for her to say anything. Once she had regained her breath, the workers caught her up to speed with what happened while the two were seperated.

“Frisk… I’m so happy… for the both of you…” She sputtered, leaning against the counter exhaustedly. “You finally found the bitty for you, and Blueberry’s finally gonna have his forever home… A happy ending… Yaaaay…”

Chara nearly collapsed from her fatigue, but Webber and another employee caught her before she could fall, documents scattering everywhere as the spider monster had dropped them in his haste to get to her.

“No. Not a happy ending.” Webber disagreed with a chuckle, papers fluttering around them. “This is their happy beginning.”

Frisk quickly began filling out the adoption papers once they had all been gathered. Chara had already purchased nearly everything she would need to care for a bitty since she had been so sure that Frisk would be leaving this building with a pygmy skeleton monster in hand – and she was right. The only thing Chara hadn’t bought was clothes, since she had no idea which type of bitty Frisk might adopt. While Frisk read over and signed the documents, Chara ran to the clothing section and back to show both new owner and bitty what the store had for sale. By the time they had selected enough clothing and got it paid for, she was on the last piece of paperwork.

“Now the only thing left to do is to give him a name and print it on the dotted line there.” Webber instructed; how many times had he been through this scenario before with this same bitty? Unlike the previous occasions, he held high hopes that this would be the last time the lonely Blueberry would ever have to go through the lengthy adoption process.

Frisk tapped the end of her pen against the table in thought – she turned to the bitty seated next to her on the cool marble surface.

“I’LL BE HAPPY WITH WHATEVER NAME YOU CHOOSE. I REALLY DON’T HAVE ANY PREFERENCES OR OBJECTIONS TOWARDS MY NAMING – AS LONG AS IT IS CHOSEN WITH LOVE.”

Even so, Frisk felt that his name needed to be special, something that was unique but wouldn’t isolate him either. Something _inspired_…

“…Crescendo.” She murmured, jotting it down on the dotted line before she could stop herself.

“Crescendo?” Chara inquired, looking at Frisk then down at the Blueberry bitty.

“Is that alright with you?” Frisk asked him, genuinely wanting his opinion.

“I… I LOVE IT. IT’S PERFECT…” He began sniffling again and Chara handed him a torn piece of tissue.

“Crescendo. It’s a wonderful name.” Webber agreed, taking the stack of papers from her.

Crescendo. The name resonated with her, because from this point onward, that word would resemble their HoPe. Crescendo - gradually rising; together.

And with that, Chara, Frisk and her new bitty friend Crescendo left the adoption center in higher spirits.

“See, you didn’t believe me before, but I told you that for every good person there was a bitty out there for them!” Now that the drama was over, Chara believed that she had earned the right to brag.

“Okay, sure. You were right and I was wrong.” Frisk admitted, flicking Chara on the nose. She stuck her tongue out at that.

“But I do still owe you dinner and there’s just enough time left to go get something before Dad and Toriel call the cops to come looking for us. Are we still getting pizza?”

Frisk nodded. “What about you, Crescendo? Is pizza alright for dinner with you?”

“…CERTAINLY! I’D LOVE SOME!”

Frisk didn’t miss that hesitant pause before he answered.

“You say that, but what you really want is tacos, right?”

He flinched, eye sockets wide with disbelief. How had she known?

“Look, I know that you agreed with me because you thought I’d be happy, but don’t do that. You don’t have to pretend to like what I do because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. You don’t have to change at all, okay?”

“…OK.” He said at last, feeling his SOUL flutter.

“So, do you want to take the bus, or do you want to go to the pizza place and the taco place then take the long way home?” Chara questioned.

“You mean after all that running, you’re still asking?” Frisk raised an eyebrow at Chara’s disheveled hair.

Chara shrugged. “A moonlight walk might be nice.”

“While carrying two pizzas and a bag of tacos?” Frisk eyeballed.

“Whatever! Do you want to take the bus or not?” Chara huffed.

“Well-”

“**_Ah-ha!_** You didn’t think I would, but I **_finally_** caught up to you!” A sudden loud voiced called out to them.

And there stomping up the sidewalk towards the two girls was the merchant from the farmer’s market, foaming at the mouth with a Farmy bitty sitting on his shoulder wearing a tilted straw hat, a narrowed gaze, and his skeletal arms crossed.

“**_THOSE WERE MY CABBAGES!_**” He shouted, his declaration echoing through the empty street.

He stepped ever closer to them and they backwards, both girls holding their hands up defensively.

“Frisk, _what do we do_…?” Chara whispered fearfully.

“**YOU HAVE BROKEN THE CELERY STALK ON THE BACK OF A SEA URCHIN! FOR THIS YOU MUST**-”

“**Bus!** **_Bus, bus, bus!_** **WE TAKE THE BUS!**” Frisk yelled.

She grabbed Crescendo and tucked him inside the safety of her purse before retrieving her wallet and zipping him up within. She opened the wallet and threw the remainder of her money at the man as a distraction then grabbed Chara by the arm and dragged her onto the conveniently parked bus on the other side of the street. The bus then took off, the three having made their getaway and were on their way to finally getting dinner.


End file.
